Psych
by Grasspaw
Summary: Modern AU: Jinora and Skoochy have a rather interesting conversation, somehow managing to go from Jinora's ticklish feet, to her mental problems, to the possibility of a just-friends not-date on Saturday.


**This is just a snippet from a modern-day story I'm writing about Skoochy and Jinora, where she's an eighteen-year-old, super-well off, over-achieving college girl, and he's a twenty-year-old, dirt poor, former street rat who happens to be crazy over this annoyingly perfect super-well off, over-achieving college girl. The story probably won't be finished for another few months, but I want to go ahead and throw this out here. I might post some other little bits as I feel like it... I don't own the characters, but the plot is mine.**

"So," Skoochy said, dropping onto the ground at Jinora's feet and tickling one of her bare feet with a blade of grass; she kicked his hand away and threw an arm over her face, groaning.

"So what?"

She could _hear_ the smirk in his voice. "Tired?"

"You have no idea. So what?"

"So I found your Psych book."

"Where?"

"It seems to have been left at my apartment."

She looked up at him; as she was lying on her back and he was sitting up five feet away from her face, it was impossible to see him properly; with a groan, she sat up and crossed her legs. "What was it doing there?"

"No idea. I think you left it at the Humane Society - remember, when you were studying for that test? - and Herbie sent it home with me."

"Skoochy, I've been looking for that book for almost three weeks!"

"Well, now you've found it. And you'll be glad to know I read it."

She blinked. "Skoochy Kostoris read a _Psychology_ book?"

He sniffed disdainfully. "Yes, from cover to cover." A lazy grin spread across his tan face. "And I'll have you know I've diagnosed your problem."

"So I have a problem now, do I?"

"Everyone has a problem, dollface." She flushed, and hoped that her sunburn would hide it. Judging by the way his grin grew wider, it didn't. "And I have figured out what yours is."

"Do tell," she said, picking at her nails and deciding to play along.

"You're a classic overachiever."

"Am I now."

"You are," he assured her. "You volunteer at the Humane Society twice a week, you're on the tumbling team, you graduated high school a year early, you play three different instruments-"

"Four."

"You're also not helping your case. You play _four_ different insturments, tutor kids in elementary school, and _still_ manage to be completely awesome at Ba Gua."

"All right, so I'm a bit of an overachiever. Is that a bad thing?"

"Not until I tell you why you're an overachiever."

"Go ahead."

"You're jealous."

She looked up from her nails, raising her eyebrows. "I'm sorry?"

"That too."

"You're not making any sense," she whined, leaning back on her hands and poking his stomach with her toe. He grinned and caught her foot.

"This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. And this little piggy had none. And this little piggy went wee, wee, wee, all the way home." He tickled her foot mercilessly as he chanted, until she was on her back again, trying futilely to escape his grasp.

"Stop it!" she gasped, laughing. "You know how ticklish I am!"

"Why else would I do this?" But he let her go. She stayed sprawled out on the grass, one foot in his lap, until he laid down on his stomach next to her.

"Skoochy?" she asked after several minutes of silence.

"Mm."

"Why am I an overachiever?"

"Because it's the only way you feel you can stand out," he said promptly. "Your dad's a household name, Ikki and Meelo are both terrifyingly popular, and Rohan's adorable so everyone loves him. You don't really feel the need to outshine your mom, though; Pema's chill like that. But you feel like since you're pretty quiet, the only way you can get people to notice you is by doing things, hence the overachiever part. And then you start to enjoy thing things and admit you're good at most of them, and so you start to feel guilty about being prideful, hence the sorry part. And by the way, it's not prideful to admit you're good at something."

"I am _not_ jealous of anyone in my family!" She was angry at his words, not only because they were absolutely not even the slightest bit true, but because maybe they actually were.

"So you say."

"I do say."

"But you say wrong."

"Do not."

"Do to."

"You're insane."

"You're a liar!"

"Only sometimes."

Jinora stared at the clouds, chewing on her lip. Maybe Skoochy was right. Maybe she was jealous of her family. Was that it? Was that why she felt the need to prove herself, the reason she had to _do_ so much before she felt satisfied?

Skoochy raised himself onto one elbow to look at her. "Hey," he said softly. "It's okay, you know. I... didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't really," she said in a small voice that betrayed just how upset she really was. Skoochy sighed.

"I'm an idiot. I'm really sorry, kid."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. How can I make it up to you? Movie? Dinner?" She shrugged, staring at the sky. "You really don't make it easy for a guy to ask you out, you know."

"Wait... what? You're asking me out?" she asked, sitting up and goggling at him. He sat up also and laughed uncomfortably.

"Um, yeah... Yeah, I am. You free Saturday night? There's some new romantic comedy thing out in theaters... I thought you might like it. We could run through Narook's or something then go see it." He shrugged. "You can say no if you want. Just forget I asked, actually." With a groan, he lay back down. She grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "What?" he asked flatly.

"Skoochy... I'd love to go see a movie with you."

His eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Really. But we'd have to go as friends. I don't date."

"Oh yeah... Forgot about that. Well, I'll take what I can get."

She grinned, and he smiled at her.

"So, Saturday night?"

"Yeah," she said with a slightly breathless laugh. "That'd be great."


End file.
